


A Heart Full Of Love

by afteriwake



Series: nongentorum [13]
Category: The Scarlet Pimpernel - All Media Types
Genre: Declarations Of Love, F/M, Falling In Love, French Revolution, Love, Love Confessions, Marriage Proposal, Picnics, Realization, Stargazing, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-08 02:08:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6834736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Percy invites Marguerite out for a picnic under the stars, she has no idea what exactly she is in for that evening, or what realizations she will come to, or how much her life will change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Heart Full Of Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thegirlisme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlisme/gifts).



> So this was written for my dear friend **thegirlisme** , who requested a fic with the Blakeneys and the prompt " _the way I said 'I love you:' in awe, the first time you realised it_ ," which I do so hope I managed to get across in this story. I had a hard time writing Percy but I hope it's not too bad?

“These stars are nothing compared to the ones I have seen in your eyes.”

Marguerite blushed at the sentiment. She was used to flattery by men. She had heard it often over the years, both in her time as a prostitute and as a celebrated actress on the stage. But the way that Percy said the things he said, the way he spoke to her, the things he said seemed different somehow. They seemed as though he truly meant them, as though they were not merely empty words of flattery, that they were truly heartfelt. And thus, they meant more to her because of that. “You do flatter me so,” she said.

“I only speak the truth,” Percy said with a grin. He had told her to discard of titles shortly after they had met, and it was refreshing. There were many men who insisted on the use of titles, who wanted to flaunt their wealth and status. Men such as St. Cyr. The thought of the man threatened to send her in a black mood and she banished the thought by looking at Percy's countenance again, seeing the welcoming smile, the warmth in his eyes, the...love on his face.

Was it love that she saw there, though? Could it be? She would admit, she thought that might be what she felt stirring in her heart. Every time she was near him, she felt she could compose sonnets or sing songs of beauty in nine hundred different languages, each one more beautiful than the next, all in praise of the joy she felt in her heart at simply being near him. And when they kissed, she felt such happiness, from the soles of her feet to the top of her head and all the way to the very tips of her fingers. He had stolen her heart, at the very least, in a way no man had ever managed to before.

She just hoped he did not break it, or steal it away.

“I must confess, dear Percy, I wonder why you asked me out here tonight,” she said, looking at the feast on the blanket before them. It was a unique treat, to be taken to the park and treated to a picnic at night. She knew there were dangers in Paris, in this time of near revolution, with men like Citizen Chauvelin about, but she trusted Percy to keep her safe. And the treat of gazing up at the stars from the open space he had found had been well worth it, plus the food and the wine had been exquisite. All in all, it had been a most excellent evening. “It is a trifle grand for such a simple outing. The grandest wine, the most luxurious food...even the quilt upon which we sit is soft and filled with luxurious down feathers, I imagine.”

“I only want to give you the best, Marguerite,” he said. “You deserve no less than that, for all the rest of your days.”

Her heart caught in her throat at the implications of what he was asking. Was he asking for her hand in marriage? Was he asking to spend his life with her? Oh, she hoped against all hope that he was. “Percy...”

“I love you, Marguerite St. Just. I do not think I could love a woman on this Earth more than I love you, and I do not wish to look. I do not wish to try. You have captured my heart and my soul, and they belong only to you, to do with what you will. I love you more than I can express, and I would be honoured if you would allow me the privilege of becoming your husband.” He reached into the basket that the food and wine had been stored in and pulled out a velvet box, opening it for her. The area was well lit enough that she could see it was a well-sized diamond. Not too ostentatious, though she knew as a baron he could easily afford more. It was perfect for her. He plucked the ring out of the box and slipped it onto her finger. “Well, Marguerite?”

She looked at him in wonder as her heart swelled. _Oh_. This _must_ be love. She felt such an overwhelming sense of love towards him, such a sense of joy and happiness that she felt she might burst. “Oh, yes!” she said, a smile so wide on her face that she was afraid her face might crack. “Yes, of course I shall marry you! Oh, I do love you so.” She put her arms around his neck and pressed kisses all over his face until she ended with pressing her lips against his in a nice leisurely kiss that he eagerly returned.

When they pulled apart he looked at her with a smile so bright she swore it was brighter than all the stars in the sky, even brighter than the sun. “You have made me the happiest man in the entire world,” he said.

“As you have made me equally happy,” she said, hoping her smile was as bright. She moved her arms back down from his neck and grasped his hands in hers. Oh, she loved this man with all her heart, she knew this now. Loved him more than she could ever say...but she would spend her life trying.


End file.
